This is going to be a long one. I appreciate if you stay and read it all.
I’m freshly 24 years old. I’ve been in and on/off relationship for more than 2 years. I’ve stayed at his house (a 40 minute drive from my hometown/place of work) for almost the majority of this time.
We met online. It started off good - really good. We had the best times together. He was so thoughtful, he done things for me that not even my long term relationship previously had done for me. He had a dog, and I had just lost mine, and she became my best friend and biggest comfort in our relationship.
I should’ve left at the first red flag, way back then. It was the start of it all. We were drunk, arguing, and he took a bread knife and cut his arm because he “felt so angry he didn’t know what to do and he didn’t want to hurt me.” I’ve never told anyone about this.
Things were fine again after this. It was really our first big argument, and I had lots of reassurance from him. He bought me a hamster.
It really is blurry. It’s hard to pin point key parts - there’s been a few. The arguments started picking up. More frequent, more shouting, punching walls, throwing my things down the stairs. But it was fine! We’d make up almost instantly every time. I was showered with “love” again.
Everything changed. Not overnight, but I just never really noticed. He no longer liked some of my friends, caused some fall outs. He no longer wanted me to go out with them, or, out at all in fact. He’d tell me I couldn’t wear something if he felt it was too provocative. He started going through my phone. He’d question things on it, photos, messages from months previous, who certain people were. He had to always know my password - whenever I changed it, he would accuse me of hiding things from him. He didn’t like me being friends with boys in work. Told me I was too pally with them. He’d always be unhappy about something, constantly picking fights with me, then he’ll accuse me of being the one to start it. Because he’d pick and chip away at me and I wouldn’t react, but he’d keep going and going and going until I snap, and then it becomes my fault. He often (to this day) would call me harsh names - I was a cunt, a bitch, accused me of being a lesbian because I didn’t want to sleep with him anymore, told me I was useless, said “what do you even do? All you do is sit on your hole” - everything you can imagine and more, he’s said to me. I work at a restaurant, Weds-Sun, longest shifts being 12-13 hours, never a shift shorter than 8. 40 minute commute there, 40 back, whether it’s at 10pm or 2am. I also look after the 3 animals on top of your usual house work that you don’t even bother to attempt. But yeah, what do I even do?
This is my boyfriend. These aren’t things a boyfriend, or any person who “loves” you says. But it was always followed up by apologies, and hugs and kisses, he’s sorry, he was just angry or upset but he knows he shouldn’t have said what he did. And I’ve still stayed. I am still here, right this very second.
I am not perfect, far from it. I’ve said things I shouldn’t have. But I feel as though I’m being bullied for just existing. He constantly berates me, criticising everything I do. I’ve been put in a box. I used to be so confident. I loved life. He may not have physically touched me except maybe once or twice, but I am emotionally black and blue.
What’s prompted me to come on here and write this is I need the strength. I need strength from strangers who don’t know me and who owe me nothing. My mum is the only person who knows what he’s really like, to (almost) the full extent. She tells me everyday I need to come home - she despises him. Maybe it’s not strength I need, maybe it’s a boot up the arse because I know I shouldn’t be here anymore. I know he is abusing me.
I can take the hamster and the kitten who will be looked after by my Gran, but I feel rotten to my core that I cannot take the dog. He’d had her for around a year and a bit when we met, so she is 100% not my dog. But she’s as much in the situation as I am. I feel as though I am leaving her behind. She’s been my sole comfort. If I cry when I think about leaving, I cry for her, not for him.
Why can I not just walk away?
P.s. reading this back and realising I haven’t even included HALF of what it’s been like is borderline traumatic. I can’t believe this is my life.